


But I Know That Wicked Shape to Your Smile

by RisingShadows



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Beast William Schofield, Beauty and the Beast Elements, M/M, characters will be tagged as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23686162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingShadows/pseuds/RisingShadows
Summary: Tom Blake grows up on ghost stories about the soldier that haunts the old estate on the edge of the town. And then Joe drags him out to steal a cherry blossom on a bet and it isn't a ghost story any more.(Beauty and the Beast AU)
Relationships: Joseph Blake & Tom Blake, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from Where is Your Rider? by the Oh Hellos

> A shadow passed yearning for the fool it called home
> 
> -Left Behind, Spring Awakening

Tom had grown up on stories about the Soldier, the old ghost story that the other boys in the town liked to claim still haunted the ruins of an old estate that had been left to rot since World War 1. Tom himself had never believed it, never believed in some cursed monster that supposedly killed you if you got too close to his cursed cherry tree or what have you. 

As if Tom needed to go steal from a ghost story when he had an orchard out back. 

No it was something else that drew him towards the old building, half forgotten memories that shouldn’t have existed to even be half forgotten. Tom had never bled out in another soldiers arms, had never been sent on a mission across whatever hell that had been. 

Tom had never woken up beside a solemn faced soldier who was more important than anything else in his short life and dammit Tom’s life wasn’t going to be short. With or without the mystery soldier that haunted every one of his dreams as if he was supposed to be there. As if he wasn’t just another figment of Tom’s overactive imagination and the old stories his grandfather used to tell. 

It was Tom’s complete disbelief in the ghost stories that had led him to this exact moment. Him and Joe both clutching their flashlights while they clambered over the old walls that surrounded the estate. Half grown over with vines and other plant life, the massive shadow of the actual house looming across the field from them. 

And in the center of the small orchard, it was an orchard Tom was certain, was one tree. Somewhat separated from the rest though that wasn’t what caught his eyes.It was the tracks, footprints about the same size as Toms. 

“Joe, Joe someone else has been here-” Joe cut him off with a wave of one hand as he straightened, 

“Sh Tom, if someone else is here you don’t want to be the reason we’re caught. We just have to find the tree Mick said to find and then we’re out quick as that.” Turning towards him Joe grinned, one hand waving the flashlight he held as he spoke. “It’s just a ghost story anyways, we get $100 if we make it out before morning with a blossom, easy as pie.”

“So why couldn’t we just take a blossom from home?”

“This one blossoms year round supposedly, you can tell the difference. You know that.” Joe clearly considered that the end of the conversation. Turning away to continue the slow walk through the trees.

A few minutes later and they had separated, trying to find a path that would lead to the tree Tom had seen when they’d first clambered over the wall. Undergrowth and odd piles of stone strewn through the orchard making it a difficult endeavor in the dark. Especially when Tom refused to turn on the flashlight, his eyes occasionally catching on the footprints that seemed to be scattered here and there in the mud. 

Which didn’t make sense to begin with. Tom was nearly one hundred percent certain it had been at least two weeks since the last time it had rained enough for this level of mud. Then again, cherries were out of season. It made no sense that nearly every tree here seemed laden with them, the branches weighed down by what would have been a good amount if anyone were actually here to pick them.

Finally dragging his eyes away from the trees Tom stumbled. Tripping through a small gap in the undergrowth as he froze, a figure standing in the shadows in front of him. From this angle, it seemed to be turned the other way. Hands raised to tug at something Tom couldn’t see though it. The figure itself didn’t look all that ghostly, or different from any one else. In fact all Tom really noticed was that looked as if it was only an inch or so shorter than Tom himself. 

The figure didn’t seem to hear him. Hands dropping down to its side as it turned towards the massive shape of the house. Disappearing through the trees and undergrowth a moment later as Tom crept closer. Breath caught in his chest as he stumbled over another outcropping stone and landed where it had been standing. 

Nothing, no sign that it had even been there aside from the faint imprint of a boot in the mud. 

And then there was something there, a figure sweeping through the shadows beside him as he jumped, stumbling before turning to dart down the same overgrown path he’d just watched the other figure go down. Whatever was following him seemingly losing him a moment later, the shadow no longer flitting between the trees. 

And then it was there again. Though Tom wasn’t sure how it had found him, the figure towering over him one hand locked over his mouth to prevent him from screaming and Tom’s flashlight rolling away from them as he choked on a gasp. 

In front of him pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. Tom staring at the curve of its jaw where skin seemed to melt into scales that disappeared beneath clothes that would have looked at home in the old museum in town. Pointed ears swiveled as Tom watched, twitching as he heard Joe call out from the other side of the orchard. 

For a moment longer it held him there, silently considering him as Tom watched pitch black eyes slowly shift, white seeping in to overtake the pitch black and a rich blue shining through until they looked no different than any persons. Iris’s a deep shifting blue that seemed to glow in the moonlight. Eyes widening as it held him, it’s mouth hanging open for a moment before it twitched, lips forming a single word as it stared down at him. 

His name, he could’ve sworn it said his name. 

Above them the clouds shifted and Tom got a better look at it as it twitched back. In the light he could see the white chalk like dust that coated it’s skin, interspersed with a darker powder and those pointed ears which swiveled back as Joe’s voice grew louder, closer.

And then it released him, massive feathered wings sweeping upwards as it jerked back and up disappearing into the tree’s with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for something that size. 

A minute later and Joe stumbled out of the trees to his left. Turning to frown at Tom where he stared into the shadows it had disappeared into. “What the hell Tom, why didn’t you-”

“We need to go. There-” Shaking his head Tom stumbled forward, lurching as he lunged to grab the flashlight he’d dropped when it grabbed him. “There’s something here, it, it ran when it heard you getting closer.”

“Tom if this is about the ghost story-” Only it wasn’t it had just been there and Tom had no fucking idea how to explain that to Joe when he hadn’t seen the thing. 

“No, no it, I don’t know what it was. But it grabbed me Joe, I wouldn’t lie about that and you fucking know it-” Cutting himself off Tom blinked back at his brother as he nodded. Slowly sweeping his eyes over the trees around them. 

“Yeah, yeah I do. Let’s just find the tree and get the hell out of here okay?”

Nodding slowly Tom stumbled after him, the two wandering deeper into the orchard as he struggled to get his breathing back under control. Every creak of the trees around them putting him even more on edge before they finally reached the tree that stood in the center. A little ways off from the rest and near the stairs that led into the massive house. 

From this distance, Tom couldn’t see any of the supposed damage that had left the place uninhabitable for so long. Just long shadows that seemed to shift with the wind and everything else out there. 

Joe easily jogging over to the tree as if there was nothing wrong with the sudden chill or the menacing wind. Because ghosts weren’t real, and Tom wholeheartedly agreed with that. 

Whatever the hell had just grabbed him wasn’t a ghost, he didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a ghost. Ghosts didn’t have wings, or fangs, or whatever the hell had been up with its eyes. 

Ghosts were just dead people, not living, breathing beasts. It had been dressed like the old soldiers in the history book’s he’d had to read in class. Like all of his dreams. 

Like everything he’d been trying to escape since he was a kid and now, now here it was. Here it was in the shape of a face far too similar to the vague memories of a solemn soldier that he couldn’t bring himself to forget even though the man couldn’t possibly be real. 

A face that was attached to some winged beast that might have been about to kill him if Joe hadn’t chosen that moment to finally wander over. Only it hadn’t seemed like that, it hadn’t seemed like it even really intended to hurt him. Not when it had first grabbed him and not when it had suddenly taken off again. 

“Tom, over here.” Joe’s voice was a hiss, his hands waving where he crouched in the shadow of one of the tree’s. Following where he was pointing Tom blinked at the low hanging branch the other was pointing at. A blossom clearly visible as the two slowly crept closer. 

Joe easily slipping up to it and reaching out as Tom lunged, grabbing at the others wrist as he glanced around. “Are you sure this is a good idea? That thing I saw earlier-”

“It’s fine Tom, it’s one cherry blossom. Not like we’re stealing the crop or anything.” Nodding slowly Tom let go, taking a slow step back as Joe reached up and delicately plucked the blossom from the branch. 

The moment he took a step back something changed, Tom’s vision graying out around the edges as a scream split the air and Joe turned towards him with wide eyes. Grabbing at Tom’s hand as he took off, dragging him back along the way they’d come only to slide to a stop. 

“Which way, Tom, which way did we-” Tugging himself free Tom turned back for a second. Catching a glimpse of wings spread against the night sky, eyes reflecting light like a cats as it swept through the air above them. 

“This way-” The choked whisper cut off when the figure dove, Tom turning to run as Joe kept pace. The two stumbling over tree roots and stone, the undergrowth tearing at their legs. In front of them the walls loomed, Joe scrambling up one as Tom stumbled, tripped, and regained his footing. Hitting the wall at a sprint as the two clambered up broken stone and vines that seemed to have spread across every inch of stone. 

Tumbling to the ground on the other side not a second too soon as a loud whump filled the air and they flinched down. The sound of feet striking stone and the figure crouched atop the wall behind them. Dark eyes glaring down at them, black streaks visible on its face, almost as if it had been crying. Its hands seemingly coated in something dark, barely visible in the moonlight, as it glared down at them. 

But it didn’t come closer, it didn’t jump down to follow them, it just glared. Wings spreading to maintain its balance as Joe dragged Tom back to his feet, stumbling back and away. His other hand still carefully clutching the blossom as they slowly began to back away. 

Neither of them willing to turn their heads away from the beast as it glared down at them. From this distance Tom couldn’t see where skin seemed to melt into scales, or the streaks of dust he had seen earlier. From this distance it was just a shadow of a monster, easily explained away as another part of his overactive imagination if it weren’t for the terror that gripped his brothers face and the hand still clutching at his. 

But there was something else, something about the way it watched him. Eyes locked onto his as if he was somehow more important than his brother. Tracking him as they slowly stumbled away and it straightened out of the crouch it had been in. Wings spreading to block out the moonlight that had been filtering past it, it’s shadow barely reaching Tom’s feet. 

And as he watched it reached out, slowly. One hand outstretched towards Tom as if it expected something from him. Another slow step back and something else seemed to drift across its face, the beast flinching back as it drew its arm to its chest and turned. Leaping from the wall as they watched and disappearing into the shadows of the trees once more. 

Behind him Joe let out a shaky laugh, Tom turning to look at him as they stumbled another few feet. “This doesn’t need to be mentioned when we show them the blossom.” 

“That's what you’re focused on Joe? That thing could have killed us!” His voice was higher than usual, adrenaline still working its way through his system as they tripped through the overgrown yard that separated the estate from the road home. 

“Yeah, well it didn’t. Don’t tell mom though, she’ll kill us if she finds out we snuck out to wander around out here. Especially if anyone heard that scream. They might have called the cops.” 

A half hour later and Tom dropped into bed with a heavy sigh. In the morning Joe would drag him out to prove that they’d stolen that stupid blossom and he could forget everything that ever happened. 

In the morning he could tell himself it had all been a bad dream, all his imagination. Whatever the thing had been, there was no way it was connected to him. Or to the soldier that had haunted his dreams since he was a kid. 

That only happened in fairy tales. 

Besides, in fairy tales the prince never dreamed about bleeding out in another soldier's arms in a war 40 years before he was born.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Tom’s mum wakes him up, none the wiser to the escapade of the night before. She waits just long enough to ensure the two remember that it’s Toms day to go into the market before leaving them to their own devices. 

Joe walking most of the way with Tom before splitting away with a wave and a wide smile. The blossom he’d taken tucked carefully into his pocket as he wandered towards where he knew Richards would most likely be waiting. The others would join them soon and Joe would get the money for the dare and Tom could forget the winged monster. Could forget the black tear tracks streaking down it’s face and the void like eyes that had slowly shifted into a glittering blue that would have stolen Tom’s breath if he hadn’t already stopped breathing when it had pinned him to the tree. 

The red tint he had barely been able to see on its hands, like dried blood and the massive black wings that had blocked out the moonlight for a moment. The wings that had created a shadow that seemed almost to reach towards them when it wasn’t even moving, perched atop the wall like some gargoyle on the old buildings in the cities Tom had seen pictures of. 

Joe hadn’t even mentioned it in the morning. Barely acknowledging Tom’s attempt at discussing it when Tom couldn’t crush the little thought niggling at the back of his head that something was about to go terribly wrong. 

Which was exactly how he ended up where he was. Staring down at the cherries with a frown and trying to ignore the argument he could clearly hear from the two men manning the stall. The shorter of the two glaring up at the taller one with a basket of cherries propped on his hip. 

Tom had missed the start of the argument, too busy glaring down at the cherries in front of him as he mulled over the night before. And it was the shorter of the two that finally caught his attention. Head cocked to the side as he rolled his eyes and re-positioned the basket of cherries as he spoke. “You know the rules. Don’t take a blossom from a tree that isn’t yours.”

Tom froze where he stood, eyes still locked on the cherries as he chanced a slight glance towards the two. The taller one sighing quietly as he dragged a hand through his hair and answered whatever challenge had been in that sentence. “I know the rules, you know the rules. Not everyone has a reason to know those rules-”

“You say that as if it isn’t common knowledge in this town. It’s the same as breaking any law, don’t steal what isn’t yours. It could be bad for your health.”

“Bad for your health-” Sighing the taller of the two turned away with a shake of his head. His eyes meeting Toms instead as he spoke. “There’s a reason you listen to myths, they’re always grounded in reality.” For a moment, all Tom could think about was the beast, crouched above them and watching as they stumbled back. The cherry blossoms Joe had taken had seemed insignificant at the time, even when Tom had grown up on the ghost stories that surrounded the old manor. 

When he had stared the beast in the face, he’d forgotten all of it. Forgotten every single tale they’d been raised on. Some claimed that the blossoms could bring good fortune and good luck. Others claimed they didn’t do anything, it was the soldier that guarded them that was dangerous. 

But most, most agreed that you shouldn’t steal from the tree. From any of the tree’s. 

A single blossom was enough to ruin everything you had ever had, everything you had ever wanted. 

They’d always laughed at the stories, always joked with the other kids about sneaking in and stealing a blossom and proving that all the ghost stories had been fake. Except before last night, they’d never crossed the fence. They’d come close, climbing up the side to peak over until they saw movement and went scrambling back down the path towards town. 

Tom had always been able to justify it as shadows, tree branches shifting, young imaginative minds creating boogeymen where there was nothing to be afraid of. 

Except he’d seen the monster now, watched as it stood on the top of the same wall they’d climbed as kids. If the beast existed, why wouldn’t the curse exist too?

Tom had barely noticed that he’d started walking, one hand clutching the bag of produce he’d bought as he stumbled away from the stall. Oblivious to the two watching him as he went, stone faced. 

And oblivious to the thin blond who rounded the corner of one stall in front of him, the two bouncing apart with a yelp and the sound of Tom’s bag falling. The blond in front of him scrambling to pick up what had rolled out of it as Tom blinked owlishly at him. An older man stepping up beside him with a frown as he offered his hand to the blond.

“Sorry, sorry. That was my fault, wasn’t watching where I was-”

“Deep breath Fritz, that was his fault not yours.”

“Oh, he’s no, no, he’s right that was all me. Wasn’t watching where I was going.” Blinking at the two for a second longer Tom winced, offering his hand as the blond, Fritz, pressed the bag back into his other one. “Tom Blake, I don’t think we’ve ever-” 

The blond barely had the time to shake his hand before they were interrupted. 

“Oi, Fritz, Albrecht. You coming? We need to finish packing up.” Beside him it was almost as if the shorter of the two Tom had been listening to earlier had materialized. Glaring at him as he reached out to tug at Fritz sleeve, the blond easily following with an apologetic smile as they slid past him. 

All three of them joining the taller one who still stood next to the stall. Clearly waiting for the three as they started to gather what had still been set out. 

It was early in the day to close, but it wasn’t uncommon for the small group. They’d been doing it for years, as long as anyone in town could seem to remember. And whoever was working the stall had always been up to entertaining the kids that would come to the market. 

Wide smiles and ghost stories that they’d all scoff at, and then once they were home they’d wonder about the soldier haunting the old mansion. Tom had always thought it was funny, they were the only ones that never mentioned a curse. As far as Tom could remember, they’d never even actually called it a ghost. 

It had always been a simple story, an old soldier guarding a very important orchard though none of them had ever bothered explaining what was important about it. It had been the other kids, the older ones, and the adults around town that had liked to twist the story. Had liked to make it into a true ghost story, curses and monsters included. 

Now, standing in the center of the market all Tom could think about was the blossom Joe had clutched in one hand and the triumphant smile he had as he walked away to show them that they’d done it and made it back with none the wiser. 

Only they hadn’t. Tom had thought for a moment that he was dead. That whatever it was that had grabbed him was going to do what all of the stories said, that Joe’d find his body laid as if asleep against the trunk of a cherry tree with a gaping hole in him somewhere and everyone would know what did it. 

Everyone would know and they’d go right along acting like it was all ghost stories. Tom would’ve been one of them if it had been anyone else, if he hadn’t seen the thing. Hadn’t felt its hands as it pinned him against the tree and looked at  _ him _ .

It had looked at him as if it knew him, and that was the crux of the matter. 

The Soldier, the beast, whatever it was. Whoever it may have been. Tom couldn’t throw that small encroaching belief that he knew it, knew him. That he was important, more important than anything else in Tom’s life. 

But that was unimportant, whatever the stories said, none of it mattered so long as Joe was okay. He’d never have to go back, they’d take whatever money Richards forked out and they’d forget about it entirely. 

“Hey, Tom,  _ Tom _ !” The call came from his left. His head snapping around to blink at the frowning face of one Edwin Richards as he walked towards him. “There you are. Joe mentioned you were at the market today when he was heading home. Asked me to let you know, he thinks he’s coming down with something.”

For a moment Tom’s breath caught in his chest as he forced himself to nod. Frowning back at the older man. “Are you sure? He seemed fine this morning, walked-”

Edwin was shaking his head before Tom could finish, his frown growing as he considered him. “He could barely talk he was coughing so much by the time he left.” Hesitating he glanced around as he stepped closer. “Tom, if it’s bad he may need a hospital. It’s pretty far, I know, but if you need a car you can take mine. I know you’ve only got the one, and your mother would need it. I can go without mine for a while if you need it.”

“I-” Shaking his head Tom nodded. Forcing a smile onto his face as he began to step past him. “Thanks, if we need it I’ll come knocking.” With that Tom started home, Edwin’s words ringing in his ears. 

There had never been a depiction of what the curse did in the stories. Never a description of how it hurt people. No, the descriptions were always about the Soldier. The Soldier defending the orchard from outsiders, outsiders like them who thought it was all fun and games to steal from it. 

All fun and games until a winged beast had pinned him to a tree, all fun and games until Joe was suddenly sick. Maybe Edwin was blowing it out of proportion, maybe it was just a cough. Maybe it wasn’t. But Tom didn’t want to acknowledge the other options. Not when he hadn’t seen for himself. 

The house looked empty, the car gone from the car shed meaning their mum wasn’t home and no sign of Joe. Inside or out. The windows drawn as they were that morning when they’d left, the doors still tightly shut although that didn’t mean much. Joe always closed and locked the doors behind him when he was home. 

That did nothing for Tom’s growing anxiety as he struggled with the key, the door rattling in the frame as he pulled at it with a muffled curse and tried again. Stumbling back as it finally opened and he could scramble through the door, tossing the bag onto the counter in the kitchen as he went through the house. 

“JOE.” The lack of a response was driven home by the sight of his boots. Set by the door just as they always did, Tom’s were supposed to go next to them. To keep from tracking mud from the orchard through the house. If there mum saw Tom now she’d scold him, but that was less important than figuring out where his brother was. 

Without a second thought Tom darted up the stairs, stumbling slightly as he took them two at a time. Joe’s door down the hallway, past his, was still slightly ajar. Sunlight filtering through from the window above his bed as Tom pushed the door the rest of the way open. 

Slowly walking through Tom felt his heart drop in his chest, Joe slumped on his side on the center of his bed. Clearly coated in sweat as Tom reached out to roll him onto his back. Breathing through the rising panic as he shook him by the shoulder. 

“Joe, Joe. Come on, wake up for me.” The muffled hum he received was cut off by a rough cough, Joe’s shoulders shaking with the force of it as Tom levered him upright as gently as possible. “Come on Joe, wake up.”

Against his side Joe let out another hum, blinking glazed eyes open as he frowned up at Tom. Slowly lifting one hand to push at Tom’s hand on his arm before he seemed to realize what was happening. 

“Tom, Tom, I think we fucked up. I don’t know, there was never any-” The rough coughing that cut him off had Tom wincing. Leaning in to support him as he coughed and slowly guiding his free arm over his shoulder. A deep shuddering sigh following as he caught his breath. “There was never any mention of a curse in the stories, and I didn’t-”

Grimacing as he started coughing again Tom shushed him. His grip tightening as he stared down at his brother, hesitating before he turned and froze. The blossom sitting innocently on the bedside table, as if it were meant to be there while his brother gasped through another cough. 

“We have to return it.” The words were a whisper. Joe frowned back at him as he reached out, lifting the blossom from the table with a shaking hand.

“Tom, the beast-” Cutting himself off with a frown Joe waved one hand as he glared at the blossom in Tom’s hand. Tom’s head was already shaking as he took in a steadying breath and turned to his brother. 

“I don’t, I don’t know what to do about that but I think, I think we have to return the blossom. In stories like this you always have to return what you stole right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's chapter two! Hopefully got a little more of the back story/story of the curse into this one! I'll be tagging characters as they appear so if the tags ever seem to change, that's why!  
> Let me know what you think! You'll get more backstory into everything that's happening as we go.  
> Also special thanks to ChillMachineBroke who let me bounce ideas off her and proofread for me!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I don't want to give anything away just yet but you'll get some more back story in the next chapter!


End file.
